


What I Did At Border Camp

by petrichoral



Category: The Turn of the Story
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Gen, alternate POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 06:53:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petrichoral/pseuds/petrichoral
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rewrite of Part I from Luke's PoV, with bonus Luke and Serene scenes. Most dialogue taken directly from canon. </p>
<p> <i>Elliot was without doubt the most irritating, spiteful and neurotic council cadet that Luke had ever encountered. Luke also suspected that Elliot was the type of clever which made Luke look like a particularly bright cabbage, and he didn’t like that either. But Elliot, for some weird reasons of his own, was helping Serene. And Serene liked him. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	What I Did At Border Camp

The first day of Border Camp didn’t go as well as Luke had hoped.

His parents had drilled his duty into him. Luke took it seriously. That meant that on the day they arrived at camp, he made sure to go around and speak to everyone like a Sunborn should. He exchanged cheerful greetings with kids he knew from other Border families, and tried to encourage the nervous and reassure the downright scared. 

Quite a few of the kids from across the Border belonged to the ‘downright scared’ group. Luke recognised them easily from their weird, skinny clothes. _Don’t overlook them_ , his mother had cautioned, the day before he’d left. _Some of our best and brightest strategists have come from across the Border. They wouldn’t go to the trouble of recruiting over there if it wasn’t worth it._

She’d added, _See how many of them you can get to stay,_ so Luke paid special attention to them. He talked one little girl back from the brink of tears. Others had questions about holidays and dangers, and Luke answered them to the best of his ability. He spent ten minutes and his best bracingly reassuring manner on one boy who looked like he might bolt any minute.

Then there was the red-headed kid.

He was the shortest and scrawniest boy there, even among the kids from across the Border. For some reason he had chosen to sit on the highest slat of the rickety fence rather than join the others.

“You should stop sitting on that fence,” Luke said, concerned. He’d taken a tumble back from a fence that had nearly cracked his skull when he was four, although admittedly Louise had just thrown a practice Trigon ball at his face.

“Oh, I see,” the red-headed kid said. “Even this is to be taken from me.”

“Um?” said Luke.

Red slithered down from the fence, which was encouraging, and glared at Luke like Luke was the source of all his troubles, which was not.

Luke frowned. Red didn’t immediately look scared, but he guessed some people covered up fear with anger. “Don’t worry, little guy,” he said. “I know this must all be very confusing for people from the other side of the Border.”

Red’s glare got a fraction more incredulous. He didn’t reply. Luke started to feel his face colour. He was starting to feel like he preferred the scared ones. _Mum_ would have known what to do.

“This is all terribly confusing,” Red said finally. Luke let out a relieved breath. Red held up a hand. “I was so hoping that somebody would come explain all this to me,” he said. “Preferably someone who would do it in small words? And you two look like the small words type.”

Luke’s relief abruptly reversed course. He narrowed his eyes.

“Sure,” said Dale Wavechaser immediately, from beside him. “What do you need explaining?”

Red produced a grin like a harpy sighting prey. Luke nearly took a step back at the sheer spite in it. Red hadn’t even met them before.

“First, this,” Red said. He produced a cross-Border gadget from his pocket. It was _spitting fire._

Dale really did take a step back. Luke couldn’t blame him.

Luke pulled his hand into his sleeve and held it out, figuring leather would protect him for at least long enough to get it to an adult. “You’d better give me that,” he said. “You could hurt yourself.”

Red yanked it out of reach. “Nope,” he said. “It’s mine.”

Their conversation was starting to draw attention. The people nearest them began to edge away, in order to give Red and his fire-spitting gadget a wide berth.

 “I think it’s about to go on _fire_ ,” Luke said desperately.

“It’s my thing that’s about to go on fire, and not yours,” Red said, pocketing it. Dale stared at the pocket. Luke mentally noted the nearest stream in case they had to drop Red in it.

Red took a quick glance around and saw they’d gathered an audience. A satisfied look flashed for a second across his face, and when he spoke next, it was a fraction louder. “Now,” he said, “why have all our methods of communication just literally gone up in smoke? Are we kidnapped?” Luke stared at him in bafflement. Red seemed to take this as a request for elaboration. “Are we going to be ritual sacrifices?” he said, raising his voice another notch. “Is there some sort of magical spell that destroys our ability to call for help?”

The others didn’t like that at all. The ones from otherlands families were too sensible to fall for his ravings, but the kids from across the Border started muttering worriedly to each other.

“ _No!”_ Luke said, loud enough so everyone could hear. He could see all his morning’s work going up in smoke. “Everything’s fine! Your little gadgets from across the Border just don’t work here, that’s all. They never have. You don’t need them here.”

“Of _course_ not,” Red said sweetly. “The Industrial Revolution was a silly business, anyway.”

Luke opened his mouth, found he had no answer to that which wasn’t _huh?_ , and shut it again.

Red wasn’t done. He glanced at the kids from across the Border. “Are you telling me none of us are going to be able to play video games?”

Luke looked at his expression and tried to work out why he felt uneasily like prey being hunted into a trap. But he was a Sunborn, and Sunborns didn’t lie to their troops. “I’m not sure what a video game is,” he said. “But I’m pretty sure you can’t play them here.”

The kid Luke had spent all that time talking down promptly burst into tears.

“Oh no,” Red said unrepentantly. “Look what you did.”

Luke could have hit something in frustration. “I didn’t–!”

“He seems awfully upset,” Red said maliciously. “You must feel really bad.”

Right now, the thing that was most tempting to hit was Red. But Red wasn’t a Sunborn, he didn’t look like a fighter and there was no way he was up to Luke’s weight. Luke took a deep breath and made his fist unclench.

“Go on, then,” Red said cheerfully, and flapped his hands at Luke like he was shooing a dog. “See to the children!”

Luke half-turned, torn. There wasn’t a lot he could do about Red, though. No adults had heard what he’d said, and Luke still wasn’t going to hit him just for words.

“Not everyone who can see the Border belongs on the right side,” he said, with heavy emphasis. Red would be one boy who’d be no loss at _all_ to the camp. “Being trained to protect the Border is a sacred duty. And my father says that some people are too weak and too concerned with their own comfort to fight the good fight.”

“That’s fascinating,” Red said, sounding bored. “Run along.”

He didn’t seem to be getting it. “You can choose to go or stay,” Luke pointed out. “So I don’t think I’ll be seeing you again.”

“Yes, oh my God, I already understood the implication that I wasn’t man enough to tough it out beyond the Border,” Red said. “Your attempt at an insult was extremely clear. You’re just making the whole thing laboured and awkward now.”

Luke turned to hide the high, furious colour on his face. He didn’t need to give Red that satisfaction.

He went round to try and limit the damage. After the third boy asked him desperately about video games, Luke waited until he thought nobody apart from Dale was looking then hit a tree so hard a large piece of bark ripped off.

“Should we report him?” Dale said doubtfully.

“No point,” Luke said shortly, shaking out his hand. “He’ll be gone by the end of today.”

 

It hadn’t been a great start, but things started looking up from there. Luke settled easily into the war training course. It was in his blood. Everything went smoothly until two days later, when he came back to the supplies tent to get a polishing cloth, and found Will Firespring in a full-blown argument with the elf girl.

“But I did _not_ touch your shield,” the elf girl protested steadily. “And I should think I know better than to leave fingerprints!”

“Yeah, right!” Will said. He poked the quarterstaff he was holding into her shoulder. “You’d better get cleaning it.”

The elf girl’s eyes narrowed. “I will not,” she said. A couple of the boys watching chuckled.

Will grinned. There was something about that grin that Luke didn’t like at all. When his cousins Neil and Adam sometimes looked like that, it usually meant trouble. “All right, then,” he said. “Then fight me.”

“No,” Luke said, pushing aside a boy at the edge of the group. He put his polishing cloth and his dagger down on the bench. “I’ll fight her.”

Will rolled the quarterstaff in a fancy move around his shoulders. “Thanks for the offer, but it doesn’t take a Sunborn to teach an elf chick a lesson.”

In one swift movement, Luke picked a quarterstaff from the barrel and jabbed it in the space beside Will’s ear. Will’s twirling staff caught on it and slammed between his shoulder and his neck. He yelled.

“I’ll fight,” Luke said, and that was the end of that.

The boys – and it was all boys, this year’s warrior class, apart from the elf – spread out into a loose circle, exchanging grins. “We should sell tickets,” Dale suggested.

Luke shook his head and swung out his staff, loosening up his muscles. The elf girl – Serene – didn’t seem bothered about the spectators, although she was eyeing him dubiously. Luke didn’t like any of this: the remarks she drew, the cold shoulders, the odd, unfriendly glances. It was bad for troop unity. It had only been a matter of time before it came to a head.

_Don’t worry_ , Luke tried to silently communicate to her. He hadn’t realised the moment he’d decided on this, but there was only one thing he could do.

He had to let her win.

Of course, it would be an embarrassment for a Sunborn to lose, but Luke was fairly sure he could stand a little embarrassment. Nobody was suddenly going to start making fun of _him_ the way they made fun of Serene.

And he wasn’t too worried about it being obvious. He’d seen her in practice and she was as fast as a striking snake. He could get a few good hits on her, maybe take them to the ground, and then leave her an opening and throw the fight at the last moment. Job done.

“I don’t really wish to fight you,” Serene said, resting her quarterstaff on the ground and giving him a baffled look. “It was the other boy who offered me insult, and although I do not like a one-sided fight, there is no option but to see the matter through.”

Luke tried to put her at her ease. “It won’t be that one-sided,” he said. “The quarterstaff’s my worst weapon, honestly.”

That only seemed to increase her bafflement. “But you have no insult to give satisfaction for.”

“I’m Will’s proxy,” Luke said. “Once we’ve fought, the matter’s over.”

Serene gave him a look as if she was reappraising him. “Very well,” she said, at last. “If you are set on this course.”

They both fell into fighting stances. Luke had meant that, about the quarterstaff being his worst weapon, but Mum and Dad had still trained it in him from the time he was five and doggedly battering at their knees with it. He was _born_ to the arts of war. This was just a tool, like the sword. He tried a couple of probing strikes.

Serene parried easily. She moved her staff like it was a part of her body. For the first time, Luke felt a twinge of unease.

He’d better get the hits in quickly, then. He lunged, aiming for her head. Serene flung her staff up. Luke changed direction mid-strike and swept the butt of the staff at her knees. _Make her stumble, strike at her arm, end it with a crack on her other shoulder. Piece of cake._

And so it was a complete mystery to him why, the next moment, the sky was flying past his head and he hit the ground hard.

His instincts kicked in and he rolled, but too late. She was already on top of him, slamming her foot on the end of his staff. Luke abandoned the weapon and grabbed for her knees. She gave a surprised shout and now they were both on the ground, rolling over and over, Luke too close for Serene to use her staff effectively. Luke was a lot better at wrestling than at quarterstaff. He grabbed her shoulders, completely forgetting that she was a girl or that he was trying to let her win, and slammed her head into the ground.

She kicked up underneath him. Her knee went into his stomach and Luke grunted. He went to knock her head back again, but she somehow _rolled_ out, turning them both over her shoulder.

Luke crashed flat onto his back. Serene hooked her staff up with her foot and pinned him with the butt of it to his throat.

“Yield,” Luke gasped. There was a surprised and disappointed murmur from the crowd.

Serene didn’t gloat, or giggle, or look embarrassed. She simply gave Luke a neutral nod and pulled back, grounding her staff beside her. Luke pushed himself to his feet. He could feel the ache of new bruises on his back.

“I apologise for the insult,” he said loudly, over the muttering.

Serene gave him a courteous bow. “I thank you,” she said. “You are a gentleman of honour.”

Luke raised his voice as she turned and left. “All right, show’s over!” He didn’t want to give the others time to grumble. “Remember the weapons inspection tomorrow! Anyone here already got their blades polished? Or do you all really _like_ it when Commander Woodsinger hands you dishwashing duty?”

There were scattered groans and laughs, but the moment was over. Luke relaxed. “If anyone needs rebinding on a hilt, come to me after supper and I’ll show you how to do it,” he said. He was a Sunborn. He had responsibilities.

He glanced after Serene as the other boys dispersed, still unsettled. He’d heard elves were good, but he hadn’t known a girl his age could be _that_ good. At the rate this was going, she was going to be his chief rival. He entertained the thought for a moment.

Luke shook his head, letting out a breath of frustration. He didn’t want rivals. He wanted comrades.   

 

Dinner for the war training cadets was around a fire in preparation for real camps, unlike the midday meal which they took with the pampered boys and girls in the council course. Luke scooped up his portion and deliberately sought out Serene.

She was sitting with an open length of log on either side of her, despite the fact she’d beaten them all in archery that morning. Luke filled the space on one side.

“You fight really well,” he said awkwardly, which wasn’t the most brilliantly original Friendship Opening Line ever.

Serene gave a tiny nod, as if this was a matter of course. “Thank you,” she said. “You are extremely good yourself, for a gentleman.”

It took Luke a moment to figure out if that was a compliment or not. He knew a bit about the elves, enough to know that the men weren’t fighters. He decided to take it as a compliment anyway. “Uh. Thanks.”

“Offering to fight me in your friend’s place was either noble of you or stupidly overconfident,” Serene said. “After the bow, the quarterstaff is the weapon at which I am most proficient.”

“It was stupid,” Luke admitted. “I thought I’d make a show of it for the others and – uh – let you win. I didn’t think you’d be that good.”

 “I do not know why I persistently encounter this,” Serene said, sounding a tiny bit exasperated. “Have you all not seen me at drill? We train together. Are you all blind?”

“A bit,” Luke said. He took a deep breath. “I, uh, wondered if you’d help me. With the staff and the bow. You’re a lot better than me at both.”

Serene dipped a piece of her bread in her broth and chewed it thoughtfully. “No,” she said at last. “I am sorry.”

Luke found he was surprised, and was angry and embarrassed at himself for being surprised. It was not as if nobody had ever said no to him before. It just didn’t happen that often, that was all. He made his voice steady. “Sorry to hear that. Can I ask why?”

“Please do not take this the wrong way,” Serene said, “but I have attempted to train men before. It has never ended well. Men may have the will, but they lack the physical and mental stamina to reach true excellence. They become discouraged and drop out. You must understand, it is simply not an effective use of my time.”

“I,” said Luke, and then stopped. He wasn’t sure he’d even understood that properly, let alone how to counter it. “That’s… not how it works, with humans.”

“Really?” Serene said, politely sceptical.

“No!” Luke said. “Men are – men are at _least_ as capable as women.”

He got the impression he had just failed some sort of test. “Ah,” Serene said delicately. “I meant no offence. But I would encourage you to focus on your studies. You will not have the energy to spare for extra training.”

Luke considered this. It wouldn’t do him any good to just contradict her – besides, she’d be totally within her rights not to listen to him, since Luke had demonstrated a very poor track record of judgement that day. “What if I can prove I do have the energy?” he said. “My dad used to get me to run laps of the woodland trails every morning before training. If I can keep that up here, would you change your mind?”

“You are very forward,” Serene said. She sounded amused, but Luke decided he would take amused over disdainful any day. She thought for a moment. “Very well, then. You know the flower eyes-of-the-moon?”

“Small, white, grows on hilltops,” Luke said. The nearest hilltop was a good thirty-minute run from camp. He raised a hand. “Okay, I get it. Every day? For how long?”

“Young elven girls compete for the attention of the best teachers for at least a year,” Serene told him.

Luke decided that now was really not the time to point out that that seemed an absurdly long time. His archery would still be in need of help in a year. “All right,” he said. “Thanks.”

 

The first morning that Luke pressed the tiny white flower into Serene’s hand, she gave him a tolerant smile. She gave him the same tolerant smile the second, fourth and fifth morning. On the sixth morning, she raised her eyebrows at him, and on the seventh morning and all the days after that she gave him no reaction at all, just turned to get breakfast.

On the fifteenth morning, she said, “Luke, I’m afraid I am doing your reputation a disservice. Tomorrow a leaf or root will be sufficient.”

Luke stared at her in bafflement, but he didn’t get any explanation of this until Dale pulled him aside later that day.

“Luke, man,” Dale said earnestly, “are you _courting_ the elf?”

“Serene,” Luke corrected him automatically, and then he understood what Dale was saying and his face flooded with colour. “ _No!”_

“You give her flowers every day at breakfast,” Dale said. “I just – I mean – I know there aren’t many girls here, but—”

“I want her to help me with my archery,” Luke snapped. “She set that condition.”

“You’re a Sunborn,” Dale said, baffled. “You don’t need help.”

“She’s better than me,” Luke pointed out. “You, too. She’s better than all of us.”

“You beat her at sparring twice this morning!”

“Well, obviously I’m better at _sword fighting_ ,” Luke said patiently. Sunborns were always better at sword fighting. That went without saying. “But you watch. Serene’s going to be one of the greatest warriors on the Border when we’re done with school.”

Dale looked as if this concept was a hard one to swallow. “But, you know, non-humans…”

“You’d better start talking to her,” Luke said mildly. “It’s going to be really embarrassing when she saves the day and everyone has to suddenly start pretending they were her friends all along.”

After that, Dale started tentatively addressing comments to Serene in practice. A tension drained from Luke’s shoulders that he hadn’t entirely realised was there.

Better still, on the twenty-third morning, Serene took the eyes-of-the-moon leaf and said, “You are extremely persistent, for a gentleman.”

Luke was getting the hang of this compliments thing. “Thanks,” he said.

Serene gave a tiny smile, and said, “Bring your bow to the archery range at dawn tomorrow.”

 

It wasn’t just archery and quarterstaff work. They switched to swords sometimes, so Luke could give Serene tips in exchange.

“Do elves take tips from boys usually?” Luke said.

“I am extremely open minded,” Serene explained. “Also, you really are very good, for a – well.”

Luke grinned and parried her backstroke. “Thanks.”

When they were cooling down afterwards, lying on the moss by a stream, Serene said, “Luke. There is something I have been meaning to ask you.”

“What?”

“Today I am going to petition to be allowed to take the council training course alongside the war training course,” Serene said. “Will you come with me?”

Luke blinked. “But – don’t you _like_ the war training course?” he said. “Why would you want to study the council stuff?”

“A warrior must be as informed as she is swift,” Serene said. “Else how will she know what use to make of her victories?”

“Commander Rayburn probably won’t agree,” Luke warned her.

Serene lazily reached over and punched him in the shoulder. “Admitting defeat before you have given battle is a coward’s course, Luke.”

She had a point. Luke stretched and pushed himself up. “I’m in.”

 

On the way to the Commander’s rooms, they had an unfortunate encounter.

Luke hadn’t ever thought he’d see Red – no wait, Elliot something-or-other – again after the first roll call, so it was an unpleasant shock when they found him with a dagger out, carving his initials into a sleeping cabin.

“Hey!” Luke called. “You can’t vandalise the camp!”

“I do what I want,” Elliot Something-or-other said, casually finishing off his graffiti. Luke immediately felt irritation grip him like harpy feathers. It was some minor consolation that Elliot looked at him and seemed to have exactly the same reaction.

Luke was about to tell him to get lost, but Serene stopped and said, “Oh good, Elliot. There you are.”

Elliot gave an actual, normal-person smile. “Here I am!”

“ _You,_ ” Luke said, trying to decide what was more implausible: Elliot’s continued presence or how he knew Serene. He settled on the first one. “Why are you still here?”

“I’m sorry—” Elliot said, squinting at Luke.

Luke prepared himself to be called names.

“—but who are you?” Elliot said. “Have we met before? What’s your name?”

Luke’s mouth opened in sheer disbelief. Nobody in camp had ever asked him his name a second time. It wasn’t as if camp was that big. He even knew _Elliot’s_ name. He tried to be charitable. Maybe the boy had some sort of eye disorder, or had been too overwhelmed on the first day to remember their meeting.

It was still _ridiculous._

“Sorry,” Elliot said innocently. “I guess you’re just not very memorable.”

“This is Luke Sunborn,” Serene said casually, before Luke could choke. “Luke, Elliot Schafer. Did I say that right?”

“Perfectly,” Elliot said.

“I know his name, they said it at roll call,” said Luke. “How do you know this guy, Serene?”

“He’s a new friend of mine, like you,” Serene said, which didn’t answer _anything_. “I was hoping that you would both accompany me to Commander Rayburn’s rooms and support me as I make my petition.”

Elliot gave her a sweet smile, which Luke suspected was entirely false, and took her arm. Luke frowned at him, trying to communicate by gaze alone that if Elliot tried any of his tricks on her, Luke would personally throw him into the nearest wall, but Elliot wasn’t even looking at him.

 

Commander Rayburn shot them down. Luke had known he would, but he still had to smooth out a look of dissatisfaction. Luke thoroughly approved of deference to due authority – otherwise an army couldn’t function at all – but he had the nagging feeling that if he’d gone in with that proposal for himself, he would have expected a bit more of a hearing.

Of course, it was Commander Rayburn’s privilege to flatly refuse a cadet’s request. Serene’s proposal was bordering on absurd. But she was his classmate and he owed her a debt, so he stood behind her shoulder with his arms folded and nodded slightly at everything she was saying.

Then he realised what she had just said, and choked.

“—while it might certainly be too much for the delicate, I am a woman, and scientifically we have more endurance than men—”

Elliot was making a frantic gesture at her on the other side. Maybe he wasn’t as stupid as Luke has thought. 

Commander Rayburn glared at him. “Do you have something to say, cadet?”

For the space of a breath, Elliot went very still. “No.”

Of course he’d turn out to be a coward. Luke wasn’t sure why they’d brought him along. Luke tensed and prepared to defend Serene.

Before he could open his mouth, though, there was movement in the corner of his eye. Elliot had clenched his fists and taken a step forward. “Actually,” he said, “Yes.”

Luke and Serene and Commander Rayburn all stared at him.

“Okay, I haven’t been in the otherlands long,” Elliot said, “and so far it’s all horrible and confusing, but this much I understand.” He raised his fingers to tick his points off. “First—”

_His points?_ Luke thought, bemused. _When did he have time to think up_ points _?_  

“First, Serene is the first female elf to join the Border camp, and the women of her kind are more highly valued socially than the men. She’s also of a very high rank. If you send her home saying that you doubt her capabilities, you will be insulting the elves, and they are one of the few nonhumans the humans actually have an alliance with. Why insult the elves when you do not have to?”

_Okay, he really does have points_ , Luke thought. Commander Rayburn looked as bewildered as he felt.

“Secondly,” Elliot continued, “she is extremely intelligent and by all accounts really good at stabbing stuff and whatever. You should want to have gifted students who may excel in both courses, and you should be encouraging students when they show interest in their studies. Do you not want warriors who are brilliant, and diplomats who are brave? The war training course is also obviously the command track course. Do you want the next generation of commanders and captains to be idiots like Luke?”

Luke managed not to move a muscle at that. He was frowning with the effort of following Elliot’s arguments. What he was saying made a disturbing amount of sense.

“Thirdly, if the coursework proves too much for Serene—which I do not anticipate—she can always make a choice between the courses, and at that stage it will be a choice made with more information than she has now, and with mutual goodwill.” Elliot took a deep breath. He looked like he was practically vibrating with adrenaline. “Also,” he added, “that candle so close to your papers is a fire hazard. I thought you should know.”

There was a stunned silence.

Commander Rayburn looked at Elliot as if he was a troll spawn that had inexplicably wandered into his office. “You’d be in the council training course, I assume.”

“Yeah, you can tell by my pretty dress,” Elliot said.

“ _Tunic_ ,” Luke hissed.

Commander Rayburn’s mouth twisted in irritation. “Well, your deluge of slippery words and Chaos-of-Battle’s burgeoning insubordination fail to convince me, for some reason.”

Serene gave him a considering look. “My mother always said men’s minds were unsuited to the rigors of command,” she said.

Now Luke _knew_ she was just trying to provoke the Commander for the sake of it, since Serene had assured him in their fireside talks that she was very open-minded about male commanders. “With respect, sir,” she added innocently, which just confirmed it.

“ _What_ did you say?”

Sunborns were no stranger to duty, but Luke had never felt the call of it as strongly as he felt it now. Even if, embarrassingly, a scrawny council-training kid from the other side of the Border had just done all the heavy lifting while Luke stood there like a lump of wood. He raised his voice. “I agree with them.”

Commander Rayburn diverted his attention to him. “I beg your pardon, Sunborn?”

 “I agree with everything Serene and Elliot are saying,” Luke said. “Except the stuff about guys, obviously, _remember the cultural differences_ ,” he added in an urgent aside to Serene.

Serene nodded her head in something that might be taken as repentance, not frustration, if you didn’t actually know her. “My apologies.”

“And the fact that Elliot insulted me,” Luke hurried on, “which was completely rude and uncalled for.” He could swear Elliot was smirking at him. He ignored it. “Aside from that, sir, it does no harm to let her try. She’s amazing with a bow. You should see her in the ring. If she was asked to choose between courses, she might not choose war training, and she would be a real loss to the camp.”

“She has a brain, you know,” Elliot muttered. “She’d be right not to choose war training.”

“I speak for myself,” Serene said. Her voice was getting dangerously close to actual anger. “And I am brilliant with both a bow and my brain. But if you do not know how to value a daughter of Chaos, that is your loss.” She stalked across the room to the only other chair in the place and sat down in it: a deliberate insult, since cadets stood out of respect for their superiors.

Elliot cast a weird, twitchy look after her and perched on a stool, possibly in solidarity. Luke couldn’t bring himself to do it. He stood beside Serene’s chair instead.

Commander Rayburn eyed them as if he couldn’t possibly understand why such a mismatched trio as an elf, a Sunborn and the camp’s most irritating council cadet were all sitting in his office eyeballing him. Luke wasn’t entirely sure he could answer that either.

“You can take both courses,” Commander Rayburn said shortly. “On trial. For a year. If you do not perform satisfactorily in both, you will be asked to choose at the end of the year, whether you wish to or not.”

“Thank you,” said Serene, sitting straighter.

“And I hope I don’t regret this.”

“I intend you will not,” Serene said. “I intend to excel.”

They left in a glow of triumph. Elliot seemed nearly as pleased as Serene. “Well, Serene, you were amazing,” he said. “Now, you’ll want to learn what you missed in council training today. Come with me to the library and we will go over the lessons.” He made a shooing motion with his hands. “Goodbye, Luke.”

Luke gave him a surprised look. Maybe he would be of some use after all. “Right,” he said. “See you in archery at dawn, Serene?”

“Indeed,” said Serene, and gave him a wave. Elliot, who barely came up to her shoulder, shot Luke an inexplicably smug look. He bobbed around her talking nineteen-to-the-dozen as they walked off.

 

They’d won that battle. Luke felt pleased for Serene and then promptly forgot all about it. Or at least he would have, if the double course load hadn’t had a noticeable effect on Serene’s health.

He and Serene had agreed to cut their dawn sparring, to give Serene a few more precious minutes of sleep. Instead, they snatched time out of their dinner hour, wolfing down bread and meat and shooting or sparring by the trees, just within the circle of light from the camp’s fires. The first time his arrow beat her shot, he grinned and gestured for her to go again. When it happened three times running, though, he knew it wasn’t his shooting that had changed.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Serene said. “I just seem to be so—tired—” She tried and failed to cut off a yawn.

“You should get more sleep,” Luke said, concerned. He was about to add, _People will understand_ , since she was a girl, but didn’t. Serene wouldn’t get it. And if she did get it, she would hit him. And she had more stamina than most of the cadets, Luke thought, and felt like an idiot.

And then he made the mental connection to all the council studying she was doing, and felt like even more of an idiot. “I – uh,” he said. “If we have to stop you teaching me stuff, that’s – that’s okay. You should, um, take care of yourself.”

“I am perfectly capable!” Serene said, flaring up.

“Right,” Luke said.

Serene raised her bow, sighted along it, and let fly. The arrow thunked into a distant tree, into the centre of the gnarled knot that they’d both been aiming at in vain for the last half hour.  “Beat that, Luke,” she said, low and dangerous, “and they we will discuss whether we should stop training together.”

Luke raised his own bow and shot. He was nearly a foot off.

 

And then there was Elliot.

Elliot was without doubt the most irritating, spiteful and neurotic council cadet that Luke had ever encountered. Luke also suspected that Elliot was the type of clever which made Luke look like a particularly bright cabbage, and he didn’t like that either. But Elliot, for some weird reasons of his own, was helping Serene. And Serene liked him.

Serene had nearly slept through breakfast that morning. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Luke found Serene asleep in the library. He couldn’t bring himself to wake her, and anyway, he should probably have this conversation with Elliot in private. He exchanged awkward nods with the elven librarian and started poking uneasily around the shelves.

Elliot was sitting on a thin window ledge, apparently brooding. He looked surprised and offended to see Luke. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m worried about Serene,” Luke said.

“No, I didn’t mean why did you come here,” Elliot explained. “How did you even know how to find this place? Did you get somebody to show you the way?” Luke had in fact had to ask directions, but that wasn’t the point. He scowled. Elliot waved an expansive hand and continued, “Do you know what these objects on the shelves with all the words in them are called?”

Luke forced himself to keep calm. He wasn’t here to pick a fight. He was here to help his comrade in arms. “We were having an archery competition this morning,” he said.

“How is that different from having archery practise every other morning?” Elliot asked. “Wait,” he added, as Luke opened his mouth, “don’t tell me, I just remembered I’m not interested. So?”

Luke let out a breath of minor exasperation. “She missed every bull’s eye,” he said. “She could barely focus on the target. She still did better than a lot of the other cadets, mind you,” he added in defence of Serene’s honour.

“Who won the archery competition, then?” Elliot said.

“Me, of course,” said Luke.

Elliot looked notably unimpressed. “Okay, loser, quit bragging,” he said. Luke opened his mouth to say indignantly that Elliot had _asked_ , but Elliot was already moving on. “We have a real problem here. This has been made deliberately impossible for Serene. They won’t go any easier on her. We have to coordinate our efforts.”

“I don’t understand,” said Luke.

“I don’t know how to express the depths of my surprise,” Elliot said. He tapped his fingers on the windowsill while Luke successfully repressed the desire to throw something at him. “How would it be if Serene skipped the earliest classes, and you remembered the lessons and trained her?” Elliot said at last. “And while you train her, I could read to her and try to catch her up in our lessons so she won’t have to study late. She’ll have to multi-task, but she won’t be too exhausted to do it.”

That actually sounded like it could work. “All right,” Luke said. “So we’ll work together on this. Truce?”

Elliot glared at him. “For the year,” he said. “We’re _not friends_.”

“I’m not confused on that issue,” Luke informed him. He spat in his hand and held it out. “Deal?”

Elliot looked as if Luke had just offered him a severed ear. “Ugh, no, I’m not touching your spit. That’s disgusting.”

Luke felt himself go red and wiped his hand off on his trousers. He _hated_ kids from beyond the Border. “It’s a totally normal—”

“Save the performative manly exchange of bodily fluids for the people in your military training, loser!”

Luke clenched his fist. “Why are you helping her?” he said. _You obviously hate warriors._

Elliot’s expression was nothing short of malevolent. “Why are _you_ helping her?”

“She’s my comrade in arms,” said Luke. “And this isn’t fair. But you hardly have a code of honour, so why are you helping her?”

Elliot tilted his chin up. His hair was actually red, not orange, in the sunlight streaming in the window. “If you must know, she is the one soul destined for my own,” he said. He threw it out like a challenge. “We are going to be together forever.” 

Luke stared at him. “That’s weird,” he said. “We’re thirteen.”

“I don’t care what you think!”

“Elliot, don’t yell, we’ll get thrown out,” Serene’s voice said. She appeared at the end of the passage between two bookshelves and stared at Luke. “Merciful goddess,” she said. “Luke, what are you doing in the library?”

 

Elliot, to Luke’s surprise, proved as good as his word.

Luke expected him to slither out about three days into the agreement when he realised it was actual work. Elliot didn’t. Instead, he turned up with scrolls full of summarised notes and a pile of books, and proceeded to talk to Serene all through their sparring.

“And the nymphs can only live in deciduous trees!” Elliot called out as Serene turned. “Although, really, it looks like they’re saying that just because nobody has found them in evergreens yet. Lack of evidence is not proof!”

“Make sure your foot goes to the left when you do that turn,” Luke instructed Serene. He went slowly through the new staff block. “All right, let’s do twenty more repetitions.”

“Really, just because _you_ need twenty repetitions doesn’t mean _she_ does,” Elliot said. “Hitting things with sticks is not hard.”

“The body must remember things this way,” Serene said, while Luke rolled his eyes. She shifted her grip on her staff. “Carry on, Elliot, if you please.”

Luke wasn’t surprised to find Elliot was clever. He’d guessed that. He was surprised to find, though, that Elliot was _interested_ in things. When he started talking about the nymphs and their symbiotic relationship with the woodlands, he was so passionate about it that Luke almost thought he could guess what _symbiotic_ meant.

He even started to pick up some things himself.

“No, no, shut your face!” Elliot said, the first time Luke answered one of his questions before Serene. “These questions are not for you!” He looked down at his scroll suspiciously. “But actually that is the correct answer, thank goodness, because if you had confused Serene with another wrong answer there would have been consequences.”

Elliot was not funny. Luke did not grin. The way his mouth moved at the corners was entirely coincidental.

 

Luke was napping in a clearing at the side of the camp one day when Elliot turned up.

“Where’s Serene?” Elliot said. He looked uncomfortable surrounded by so much nature.

“Field trip,” Luke said, shutting his eyes again. “The Red group have tracking practice all day today. The Blues have a holiday.”

“I should have known,” Elliot announced. He poked Luke in the side with his foot. “The grim warrior thing was clearly all a ruse. The war training cadets spend their days napping. Now it all makes sense!”

Luke laughed, rolled over, and lunged for his shins. Elliot went over with a yelp. Luke went to shove at his shoulder, like he would with Serene or Dale.

Elliot had curled up into a ball, facing away from Luke, his arms flung over his head.

Luke sat up. He felt like a weight had been dropped into his stomach.

They stayed like that for a moment, frozen. Elliot was so tense Luke could swear he was nearly shaking. Luke felt sick. He put out his hand to touch Elliot’s shoulder, then thought better of it.

“Um,” he said. “Elliot?”

Elliot stayed still for a second longer, then rolled over, away from Luke, and sat up. He was white-faced and glaring. “Nice move, loser,” he said. “Did that make you feel better?”

“I wasn’t going to hurt you!” Luke said.

“You _tackled me to the ground!_ ”

“It was just a joke- no, _wait!_ ” Luke put out a hand as Elliot’s face shifted into a sneer. “I’m sorry.”

Elliot blinked. He didn’t seem to have a ready answer for that.

Encouraged, Luke said, “I forgot you weren’t a fighter. I was acting like you were Serene.”

“I should hope _not!_ ” Elliot said, apparently scandalised. “Do you make a habit of wrestling respectable ladies to the ground?”

“Um, only if I know them well enough?” Luke said, confused.

“This place is a den of iniquity,” Elliot muttered, dusting off his elbows.

“Look, I said I was sorry,” Luke said. He made a mental note to look up _iniquity_. “We’re both helping Serene, right? So by now we’re—” _sort of friends_ , his mind supplied, but he didn’t think Elliot would take that well. “—comrades,” he said instead.

“I am not your comrade,” Elliot said instantly. “Especially if you think that is an acceptable way to treat your comrades!” He glared at Luke. “We need a no-violence rule.”

“Fine,” Luke said.

Elliot looked at him as if he was speaking Mermaid.

“I said, _fine_ ,” Luke repeated, because apparently Elliot was deaf. “You can have your rule. No violence.”

“Oh,” Elliot said. He gave Luke a look of deep suspicion. “I am going now,” he announced. “Do not try to follow me. Do not attack me from behind. I have eyes in the back of my head.”

Luke rolled his eyes and stretched back out on the grass.

 

Rule or no rule, Luke found out that the council course were starting weapons training soon. He and Serene discussed it and agreed: Elliot was going to need a hand

He waited until lunch to break the subject, because he couldn’t help noticing that Elliot treated mornings as if they had been invented specifically to make his life terrible. 

“We could help you, you know,” he said casually.

Elliot looked up at him, and there was a split second when he looked actually baffled. Luke found he was getting pretty adept at catching Elliot’s pre-glare expressions. Normal people looked like they felt, but with Elliot you had to read it quick before it got covered with The Glare. It was as if he thought letting any emotion other than incredulity and contempt on his face was like going out without his tunic on.

This one was definitely contempt. “I don’t want or need your help, loser,” Elliot said. “But I will take your pudding.”

He took the pudding. Luke let him. Despite a few weeks of good camp food, Elliot still looked like he would blow away in a strong breeze.

Elliot hesitated, as if he hadn’t quite believed he would get away with it, then pushed his apple over tentatively in exchange. Luke took it.

“Basic self-defence training is going to start soon,” Luke said. “Even the people in the council training courses have to do it. You signed up to fight when you signed up to guard the Border. You don’t have a choice. I mean, what if the camp was under attack?”

Elliot looked offended. “I hope you and Serene would have the decency to protect me!”

“Yes, of course,” said Serene. Luke elbowed her. That wasn’t the point.

“I’m not saying this to upset you,” Luke said. “I’m trying to tell you what you absolutely have to do. What if we were both dead?”

“Amazing choice of mealtime conversation, loser,” Elliot muttered. “Now I’m not even hungry.”

“Give me back my pudding, then.”

“No,” Elliot said, drawing the pudding closer to him protectively.

“Your gentle nature is unsuited to war,” Serene said. “It’s all right to be frightened. I think you have a valiant spirit and you will rise to the occasion.” Luke wasn’t entirely sure that was helping.  

“I’m not frightened,” said Elliot, digging into his extra pudding. “And I know just what to do.”

Luke eyed him with some mistrust. He remembered seeing that expression on Elliot’s face just before he informed Commander Rayburn that the Commander and incidentally the entire war training course were idiots. But because he didn’t yet have any grounds for his instinctual suspicion of Elliot’s ideas, he didn’t ask any more.

That turned out to be a mistake. 

 

_“Are you expelled?”_ Luke said, grabbing both of Elliot’s shoulders the moment he came out of the commander’s rooms.

“No I am not expelled!” Elliot said. “And take your hands off me, how dare you, I bruise very easily.”

Luke barely resisted shaking him, but managed to let him go. Elliot sniffed and brushed off his shoulders. “Commander Rayburn recognised my legitimate pacifist protest.”

Luke and Serene gave him identical disbelieving looks.

“What?” Elliot said. “Those glances imply a disturbing lack of belief in our beloved commander’s intellectual rigor. I’m disappointed in both of you.”

 “You should have been expelled,” Luke said. “I can’t believe you weren’t expelled. I can’t believe you _threw knives at all our classmates!_ ”

Elliot sneered at Luke and glanced sideways at Serene. She was obviously trying not to smile. Luke felt sort of betrayed.

“Your behaviour was very rash,” Serene said. “And you called enormous amounts of attention to yourself, which is not the way my mother taught me gentlemen should behave.”

Elliot gave her a wide, triumphant smile. Luke’s next stern remark died on his tongue. The problem with Elliot’s smiles was that – well – Elliot’s smiles were _stupidly_ out of proportion. Usually Elliot went around looking like the world was a hostile place full of horrible people, so it was just ridiculous that, just for a moment, he could smile as if everything around him was wonderful and bright and precious.

Luke was very surprised that the commanders seemed to be immune to it. But on the other hand, Elliot seemed to be in some sort of perpetual undeclared war with them, so maybe they had just never seen it.

Serene definitely wasn’t immune. She patted his shoulder. “If the camp is attacked, I swear to protect you,” she said.

Luke gave up. “And if we’re both dead, the odds are pretty good you’ll annoy people until they chop off their own heads in sheer frustration.”

That won him a rare snort from Elliot. Luke tried not to be pleased.

“Did Commander Rayburn really let you off with a caution?” Serene said.

Elliot made a face. “I have dishwashing duties for three weeks.”

“Oh, what?” Luke said, dismayed. “You’re going to miss my first Trigon game.”

“Is that the stupid game with the glass ball and the weird hills that some of the war training guys keep playing?” Elliot said. He swivelled around and stared at Luke. “Oh no, do you play that? The others have been playing it for ages.”

“It’s a good game,” said Luke. “But I didn’t really have time to play until we got into the swing of – helping Serene.” He should have added, _and teaching me the weapons I’m not so great at_. He opened his mouth to say it, but all that came out was a weak, “She’s more important.”

He was mildly horrified at himself for the almost-lie. He tried to think how to correct it, but Elliot seemed to think he was some kind of martial prodigy and Luke didn’t want to, uh. Well. To tell the absolute truth, he didn’t want to _look bad in front of him_. 

Serene bumped his shoulder and smiled as if she understood. Luke wondered if you could transmit gratitude telepathically. 

“So, what,” Elliot said acidly, entirely missing this. They just kept a place for you on the team?”

“Sure,” Luke said, grateful to be back on a safe subject. “They were upset I couldn’t play, of course: they know they won’t win against the other years without me.”

“But with you they will?” Elliot said. Luke didn’t understand the overly sweet edge to his voice.

“Well,” Luke said. “Yeah.”

“He displays great prowess in every physical activity,” Serene said unexpectedly. Luke still had an impressive black bruise down half his side from their last quarterstaff spar and didn’t felt he deserved that at all, but he it made him feel warm all over. He grinned and bumped her shoulder.

Elliot looked at them. For some reason, his eyes had narrowed. “I have no idea why you would think I might want to go and watch your ridiculous game, loser,” he said nastily. “The truce doesn’t extend that far. I have no interest in it or you, and I already see your face far more often than I would prefer.”

The warmth from Serene’s praise abruptly drained away. Why did everything Elliot said have to be so _poisonous?_ “Suit yourself,” Luke said shortly. “Have fun washing dishes while I’m winning and everybody else is cheering for me.”

 

Luke couldn’t care less whether Elliot came to his Trigon games. All of his fighting class would be there supporting him. Probably half of the older classes would be cheering for him as well, because he was a Sunborn and Eleanor Sunborn’s nephew. He had more enthusiastic supporters than anyone could possibly need.

“Are you coming to watch?” he asked Serene, as they were trading quarterstaff blows. Luke’s archery was improving by leaps and bounds, but his staffwork was lagging behind, so they were still snatching time when they could.

“I do not understand why you are so anxious about a simple game,” Serene said. “But I will come if you wish. You would benefit from the jumping practice,” she added, as she swept a blow at his ankles.

Luke sprang back and just managed to clear it. Serene finished her spin and gave him a surprised and pleased look. “Or maybe not.”

They punched each other’s arms in shared triumph. Luke felt better.

 

Trigon was even better than he remembered. He knew the rules and the tactics, of course – he and Neil and Adam had played baby games of it when they were younger, and sometimes he’d been able to persuade Louise into giving him some tips. But there was something unexpectedly satisfying about playing with a full team – friend and foe, black and white, one victorious team and nobody dead at the end.

Serene did better than come and watch. As Luke took a centre jump and hurled the ball in a triple-loop pass to Dale, he glanced over to the watching crowd and saw her dark head next to a familiar flash of red. Luke waved at them vigorously. Serene waved back. Elliot stared at him blankly and looked down at his book.

He found them after the game. He had to duck away from people who wanted to give him another victory lap, and he was still buzzing with adrenaline. Serene gave him a judicious nod of approval. Luke did _try_ not to grin, but she and Elliot were both here and Luke had won, and it was very hard not to. “What did you think?” he said.

“I do not see the point of this game, but you were excellent,” Serene said.

Elliot looked up from his book. “Is it over?” he asked. “Who won?”

Luke rolled his eyes and mussed his hair. Elliot complained about it all the way back to camp.


End file.
